Conviction of the Heart

Author’s Note: This story is set soon after “Flight” and contains a few spoilers for the preceding episodes. There’s also some violent deaths - nothing is described in graphic detail but squeamish readers be warned. I mean no copyright infringement on characters owned by Paramount/Pet Fly, just doing them a favor by filling in a few gaps. Comments always welcome.

“Are you coming, Blair?”

Sandburg looked at the trio of hopefully expectant girls and couldn’t suppress a grin. He’d never had much trouble getting a date, but since the rumors were out that he had risked his life to be part of a covert rescue mission in South America his stock had majorly risen with the female population of Rainier.

“I can’t,” he told them with absolute sincere regret. “I need to talk to Dr. Stoddard.”

“You could meet us there,” one of the lovely coeds suggested, not willing to accept defeat.

“Next time,” Blair promised them with his most charming grin.

They were disappointed, but nodded in resignation as they bid anthropology’s answer to Indiana Jones a fond good night and joined the trickle of students who were filing out of the auditorium. Once a month the department sponsored a lecture or seminar on a topic related to their field, and it was tradition for the grad students to hit one of the local bars afterward. It was something Sandburg always enjoyed, for with his hectic schedule he didn’t always have time to socialize with his friends and these excursions always provided him with the opportunity. But this time he lingered behind, waiting for the evening’s guest speaker to finish his impromptu Q&A with a few bright eyed, eager freshmen.

Blair tried to be patient, but it had been a long day and he was ready to go home. It had been a long week, for that matter. His sudden trip to Peru had been anything but a vacation. And once he was home there had been no time to recuperate as he’d had to put in some massive overtime at Rainier to try and compensate for the 12 days he’d been gone. Jim had taken a few days off, but when he went back to work he started making comments regarding his partner’s absence so Sandburg felt obliged to spend the free time he didn’t have at the station. Because he was afraid that if his sentinel knew how far behind he’d gotten and how he was struggling to catch up, it would be one more reason to be left behind next time and he couldn’t risk that.

It had taken some creative time management and many late hours, but that morning he’d gotten the last batch of tests graded and the scores reported, handing them back to his morning class with a sigh of relief for it meant he was finally caught up. He was back on track with the classes he taught and with his own studies and the obligations he had to fulfill toward his degree. Blair thought he could relax, but as he returned to his office he was surprised to find Eli waiting for him. His mentor insisted upon taking him to lunch, where he proceeded to make a personal pitch to try and get his protegee to join him in Borneo. Sandburg was caught a bit off guard and promised the esteemed doctor that he would think about his proposal.

And he did think about it, in between the departmental meeting where he had to give an informal talk on his brief experience with the Chopec tribe in Peru, and the office hours he held later that afternoon, dealing with students coming in with questions about their test scores and asking for help getting started with the looming term papers. He ran the idea past the teaching assistant who had substituted for him while he’d been gone as he took him out to dinner at a local bistro to say “thanks”. And the envious Rick Feldman boldly proclaimed he was nuts for even having to think twice about snatching up such a golden opportunity. The chance to help spearhead a project of such scope under the guide of the honorable and renowned Dr. Eli Stoddard. Being hand chosen, no less. He was being drafted into the big time and given the chance to cement a reputation for himself. In essence, being given an automatic membership into a club that most people had to claw their way into with years of blood, sweat, and tears. What, indeed, was there even to think about?

But Blair found he really didn’t need to think very hard. Finding a real, live sentinel had been his dream ever since he’d first read Burton’s book. A dream at which his contemporaries had scoffed, but one that had come true. And even if it all went nowhere and even if he became the laughingstock of the anthropology world it didn’t matter. He just couldn’t abandon his dream, no matter how golden the opportunities that came his way. Sandburg knew he owed it to himself, but he also owed it to Jim. The research project who had become his friend, and who needed his unique help to learn to control and utilize his senses. Ellison had given him access, and his trust, which Blair knew was not an easy thing for the closed off detective to relinquish. He couldn’t betray that trust by turning his back on his sentinel and leaving him to try and deal with his abilities on his own. Ambition, prestige, career didn’t enter into it. It was, truly, about friendship. Not to mention having a cop who could almost sense crime before it happened and track and stop the bad guys before they could strike again was something that benefitted all of Cascade. Jim Ellison had the power to stop serial killers like Lash and international terrorists like Brackett. And the feeling Blair got when he thought about how he was a key part in that far surpassed the pride of having his name on a paper, no matter how important or prestigious the study.

So when Eli finally finished with the last stragglers and they were alone, Sandburg expressed his deep appreciation for his mentor’s confidence in him and desire to have him along, but he had to respectfully and regretfully decline.

“Guess my powers of persuasion aren’t what they used to be,” the distinguished doctor told the promising young man whom he found so endearing.

“You make a convincing argument,” Blair assured him. “And I didn’t make this decision lightly, Eli, I promise. A year ago I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second. But a lot’s changed and I’ve got things that I’m working on here. Things that I just can’t pick up and leave, because they might not be here when I get back. I don’t expect you to understand...”

“I do understand, son,” Stoddard said warmly, placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “You need to do what’s best for you. If you don’t, you’re never going to be happy. Or successful for that matter. Whatever this is that’s holding you back, I can see you’re very passionate about it. So I have no doubts that someday I’ll be writing an introduction to one of your books. And maybe wishing that I had stayed and jumped on board with you instead of whiling away my time in Borneo.”

“I think Borneo’s going to be looking pretty good come winter,” Sandburg chuckled. “And I also don’t think you’ll have any shortage of volunteers to go with you.”

“No,” the doctor mused. “And I might even be able to find one or two capable of keeping the research professional instead of... what did you call it? Making friends with the natives?”

“Hey, if you’re referring to that incident in Sumatra, that was completely innocent!”

“If it was so innocent, then why did I have to buy off the girl’s father?”

“It was all just a big misunderstanding,” Blair protested.

“One that cost me my new camera with the $500 telephoto lens. I had to report it as lost to get the reimbursement.”

“You lied to the grant committee?”

“Just a small obfuscation,” Stoddard told him sternly, though his eyes twinkled merrily. “One that covered your behind as well as my own, by the way.”

“Well, at least I’m not boring,” Sandburg offered up.

“Not when you attract trouble like dogs attract fleas. Fortunately you’ve got the chops to make you worth it. But now that I think about it, maybe you are better off staying in Cascade. Is this new project of yours keeping you out of trouble?”

“Not exactly,” the younger man hedged with a grin.

“Well I can’t wait to hear about when I come back from Borneo. Assuming the veil of secrecy has been lifted by then.”

“Maybe,” Sandburg replied evasively, for he’d agreed to leave it up to Jim to decide when to go public. And he wasn’t sure if he’d be comfortable enough in a year’s time to do so. But there was always a chance. “But when it is, you’ll get a sneak preview, I promise. That way you can get to work on that book introduction.”

The doctor reached out and Blair thought he was going to get swatted, but Eli merely pulled him in and they exchanged a quick hug.

“Take care of yourself, Blair,” Stoddard told him fondly. “And good luck with your research.”

“You, too. And if you need any help out there making friends with the natives, I could always come for a visit over spring break.”

“I’ll be sure to send you postcards,” Eli retorted with a smirk. “In January.”

They shared a laugh and a handshake and then Blair bid farewell to his mentor. He left the auditorium and slung his backpack over his shoulder as he began walking across the darkened campus to where he’d left his car parked behind Hargrove Hall. The college grounds were quiet and deserted and he was left to his thoughts, which consisted mostly of working out his schedule for the rest of the week. He didn’t need to come into Rainier for anything on the following day, which left him free to help Jim out at the station. And for once he was actually hoping for a boring day of paperwork and phone calls, instead of chasing down the latest murderer or gangster to cross his sentinel’s path.

Blair got into his Corvair and started the engine, but as he left campus he hesitated at the intersection. It definitely wasn’t late by college standards and the gang down at the pub didn’t have much of a head start on him. He considered dropping by, but after a moment he gave into his fatigue and decided against it, turning the car toward home. The ride was short, but it was the first time all day he’d really had to himself and things he’d been pushing aside began demanding his attention. Like the annoying throbbing in his head he’d been trying to ignore, and the general achiness that he could no longer write off as a product of his imagination. There was a flu going around Rainier, which had further complicated his overtaxed schedule since he’d had to sub for two different professors who were out sick and help several students catch up on what they’d missed while they were likewise laid up. All while he’d been trying to catch up himself. But now it appeared that he was becoming the virus’ next victim. As Sandburg pulled into the lot outside of his building and parked, he shook his head in denial. He couldn’t afford to get sick and fall behind again. And he managed to convince himself that he was just wiped out, and that he’d be fine in the morning after a good night’s sleep.

As he let himself into the loft, Blair was initially glad to be home. That feeling quickly faded as his roommate swooped down on him, complaining about the mess he’d left in the bathroom.

“I’m sorry,” Sandburg told him wearily as he dropped his backpack by the door, really not in the mood for one of Ellison’s anal driven lectures. “I’ll take care of it. I was just running late this morning.”

“And I suppose that explains the dishes that have been in the sink for three days?” the sentinel demanded.

“Jim, can you just give it a rest?” Blair growled irritably. “I said I’ll take care of it.”

“Hey, you don’t have to live here, you know,” Ellison reminded him in annoyance. “You knew the rules when you moved in and you agreed to them. Anytime you don’t want to follow them anymore, there’s the door.”

Sandburg closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and wondering if it was too late to call Eli and tell him he’d reconsidered. But all joking aside, he knew that Jim was right. He had agreed to abide by his friend’s somewhat obsessive demands for cleanliness, orderliness, and quiet. And he hadn’t been doing a very good job of that lately, so he accepted the fact that he probably did have a lecture coming to him. Although it would have been nice if he’d been allowed to get in the door and take his coat off before the bitch fest began.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Blair began calmly. “I’m just a little tired and I guess it’s making me defensive. Just let me have a few minutes to get something to eat and I promise I’ll clean up.”

The sentinel took a good long look at his guide and immediately felt guilty for jumping down his throat. He wasn’t a “little tired”, he was exhausted. And for good reason, Jim realized. Blair worked the equivalent of two full time jobs during the average week, splitting his time between the police department and Rainier. He never complained, and Ellison somewhat shamefully acknowledged that he often tended to forget that his partner spent just as many hours working for the university as he did working with him. Or more. Being the good detective that he was, Jim reasoned out that his friend had most likely been in overdrive since they’d gotten back from Peru, trying to catch up with everything he’d missed. Simon, in appreciation for the saving of his life and the life of his son, had granted the sentinel a few days off to rest up from the trip. But Sandburg had no such luxury, and Ellison began feeling bad for not taking that into consideration. Not to mention not even having the courtesy to bother with a ‘hello’ before he’d started laying into the kid.

“Look, don’t worry about it,” he told his guide. “It’s waited this long, it can wait until tomorrow. Have some food and get some sleep and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Blair looked at him evenly, tempted to exercise his stubborn pride and start cleaning up out of rebellion for being verbally spanked. But then he gave in and nodded, not sure why his roommate was suddenly being so understanding, but grateful for it all the same. He had a little leftover pasta at Jim’s urging and then called it a night, collapsing into bed with a sigh of relief, dropping off to sleep almost immediately. And when he was deep into slumber, the detective quietly entered the kitchen and began tackling the pile of dishes in the sink.

The sentinel awoke to the sound of the bathroom door slamming against the wall, which it had a tendency to do if it was pushed too hard from within. Glancing at the clock and noting it was a little after 2 am did nothing to ease his irritation at being disturbed by his roommate’s carelessness. But he resolutely rolled over, dialing back his hearing to tune out the fumbling noises from below as he attempted to go back to sleep. A futile attempt, as he didn’t need enhanced senses to hear the crash that echoed through the loft.

“Sandburg, what the hell are you doing down there?” he shouted in annoyance. He expected to hear a dutiful, if not altogether sincere, apology tossed up to him, but he received no response, standard or otherwise. Deciding to investigate, he got up and grabbed his robe, pulling it on and knotting the belt around his waist as he effortlessly navigated the dark stairs. Blair was on the kitchen floor, surrounded by the remains of the pitcher of juice he had dropped.

“Midnight snack gone awry?” the detective asked with heavy sarcasm.

“Sorry,” Blair murmured, looking up at him. “It just slipped out of my hands.” He reached out to pick up another chunk of glass to add to the pieces cupped in his left hand, but he was shaking and it wasn’t easy to handle the sharp shards without cutting himself. “I guess gluing it back together is out of the question.”

“I’d say our pitcher is DOA,” the sentinel wryly observed, his initial irritation rapidly fading as he dialed his senses back up and scanned his guide, realizing all was not well. “How are you doing?”

“I’m not feeling so good,” Blair confessed quietly.

“I’m not surprised,” Jim told him as he hunkered down beside him and rested a hand against his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Guess I am getting that flu going around after all,” Sandburg said miserably, no longer able to deny it.

“Looks that way,” Ellison murmured in sympathy as he carefully plucked the sharp pieces of glass from his friend’s trembling hand. “I’ll take care of this. Why don’t you go back to bed?”

Blair carefully got up, but instead of heading for his room he chose to crash on the couch. Jim didn’t comment but went to work cleaning up the mess on the floor. In typical Sandburg fashion, he had managed to drop a full pitcher. The kid went full force on everything he did, including destruction. Ellison sopped up the liquid and picked up the glass, his enhanced sight assuring him he had gotten even the tiniest slivers. The whole floor needed a good mopping, but given the hour he decided that he could live with a sticky kitchen until tomorrow and he called the job done for now. Opening the fridge, he took out two bottles of water, keeping one for himself and bringing the other one to Sandburg.

“I’ll buy a new pitcher,” the anthropologist offered as he unscrewed the cap and took a sip.

“Don’t bother. I never liked that pitcher anyway. Too heavy and slippery. We’ll go with plastic from now on.” Jim gave his friend a teasing grin as he checked his temperature again, growing a little concerned over how hot he was. Pulling the afghan off the back of the sofa, he draped it over his shivering guide and moved off in search of the aspirin bottle. Something he never had to actively seek out when he lived alone, he thought dryly. He finally found it in one of the kitchen cabinets, but it did him little good. Tossing it in the trash, Ellison decided that it probably wasn’t a good time to nag his roommate about putting empty bottles back in the cupboard. He’d save that lecture for when Blair was feeling well enough to give him a full blown eye rolling.

The detective took a swig from his water bottle as he pondered what to do. Going back to bed was a rather attractive option, but after a moment he dismissed it. The degree of the kid’s fever was bothering him, and he decided he didn’t want to wait until morning to start trying to bring it down. So with a martyred sigh he trudged up to the loft and got dressed. Again, playing nursemaid in the middle of the night was something he never had to do when he lived alone, but as he trotted back down the stairs and moved to the couch to look down on his roommate he was a little surprised to discover that he didn’t mind. Blair had fallen asleep, and Jim grinned as he carefully extracted the half empty water bottle that was clutched against his friend’s chest. He screwed the top back on and set it on the coffee table before tucking the afghan around his guide more securely. Ellison wanted to tell him he was leaving but he didn’t want to wake him. He considered writing a note, but then decided not to bother. After all, he was just running down the block to the 24 hour convenience store on the corner. In all likelihood he’d be back before Sandburg even knew he was gone. So Jim tugged on his jacket and grabbed his keys, slipping out the door and closing it quietly, locking it securely behind him.

Blair woke up in a panic, feeling like he was smothering. He kicked off the heavy afghan and it helped a little, but the heat was still suffocating him. His only thought was the pressing need to get some air so he rose from the sofa and made his way a bit unsteadily to the balcony.

The night was cool and brought him some relief as he leaned heavily on the railing, taking deep gulping breaths of the chilly air. Once he realized that he was breathing and not suffocating he relaxed, slumping against the cold concrete and letting it extract some of the heat from his body. But he was shaking and his knees felt weak so he sank into one of the deck chairs. Sandburg tilted his head back and closed his eyes, reassuring himself that the air was flowing in and out of his lungs.

He wasn’t aware he had fallen asleep until the rain hitting his face woke him up. With a sigh he rubbed a hand over his eyes, wondering how long he’d been out there and why Jim hadn’t appeared to yell at him for sitting out in the rain while he was sick. He knew he should go back inside, but he quickly realized that might be easier said than done. Blair felt sick to his stomach and his whole body hurt, and the few steps to the door suddenly seemed like an insurmountable distance. He considered calling to his sentinel for help, but then he thought he’d give it a try on his own first. It was just going to take a minute to work up the energy.

As he tried to summon the motivation to rise, Sandburg began to hear quiet voices coming from the street. He didn’t pay any attention to them at first, but then he distinctly heard a female voice demanding to be left alone. Both curious and suspicious, he reached up and grasped the railing of the balcony and pulled himself up. After a wave of dizziness passed, he was able to see a young girl standing on the sidewalk below, illuminated by the street light. Her companion was more hidden in the shadows and under the cover of a large umbrella, but Blair could hear him plainly.

“That’s not the tune you were singing last night.”

“Well, last night Bonnie was still alive,” the girl spat. “I know what you did to her. And you aren’t going to get away with it.”

“Who’s going to stop me?” the man asked with a confident laugh. “It’s my word against yours, sweetheart. And you’ve lost all your credibility.”

“I don’t need credibility,” the girl countered, her voice rising and taking on a wild, hysterical tone. “I have proof. Bonnie called me last night and left a message on my voice mail about what you did to her. It’s all right here and your ass is busted once I give it to the cops.”

She pulled something from her bag and began waving it in the air, until a hand reached out to seize her wrist.

“I don’t think anyone’s going to hear that message, do you?”

She jerked out of his grasp and began to run, and the man pulled a gun out of his coat and shot her. In horror, Blair pushed away from the balcony railing and turned toward the door, intending to alert Jim. But he never made it. Another wave of dizziness washed over him, dragging him down into darkness, his friend’s name dying in a whispered moan on his lips.

The sentinel was not happy as he returned home. It had begun to rain while he’d been inside the store and he’d had no choice but to walk home in the light shower. But when he entered the loft he forgot about being damp as he saw his roommate was no longer on the couch. And that the balcony doors were open. And that a limp body was sprawled on the floor outside.

He dropped the bag containing the aspirin and the bottles of juice he’d bought and rushed out to the balcony. Blair was even hotter than he’d been twenty minutes ago and was completely unconscious.

“Damn it, Chief,” Jim grunted as he heaved his partner into his arms. “I can’t leave you alone for a second, can I?”

He carried his friend inside and laid him on the sofa, then grabbed up the phone and called for an ambulance. Pausing to shut and lock the balcony doors, Ellison returned to his friend’s side and did everything he could to try and rouse him. But when the EMTs knocked on the door fifteen minutes later, Blair was still out, his fever dangerously high, and the sentinel’s concern had bloomed to full blown worry.

Blair tried to open his eyes, but the bright light hurt and aggravated the throbbing in his head. He screwed his eyes shut tightly and tried to turn away, but after a few seconds he heard a click and the sharp brilliance faded. Then he felt a gentle hand pulling a blanket up around him, tucking him in warmly and he knew exactly who was watching over him.

“Jim?”

“Right here, buddy.”

Blair cautiously opened his eyes, finding the soft light much easier to bear. He tried to focus on his friend’s face but everything was hazy, although he could see clearly enough to realize he didn’t recognize his surroundings.

“Where are we?”

“The hospital.”

“Why?”

“Don’t start pouting,” Ellison told him wryly as a frown furrowed his guide’s brow. “It’s your punishment for scaring the hell out of me.”

Blair closed his eyes again briefly, trying to cut through the heavy fog that was swirling around in his mind. His thoughts were jumbled and confused and he wasn’t quite sure what was going on. But if he were in the hospital, that meant something serious. Something beyond your garden variety case of the flu. Which was understandable, given how horrible he felt.

“What’s wrong with me?” he whispered, opening his eyes and gazing beseechingly up at his blessed protector, seeking the truth.

“I’m afraid the jury’s still out on that one, Chief.” Jim told him gently, his reassuring tone easily masking the worry behind his eyes. “The doctors are waiting on some test results but they’ll figure it out. They’re taking real good care of you, don’t worry.” He reached for the glass of water on the table next to the bed and held the straw to his friend’s lips so he could take a sip. “Why don’t you close your eyes and try to go back to sleep? I’m right here if you need anything.”

“I can’t,” Blair murmured, tossing his head restlessly. “The bed’s moving.”

“That’s because you’re shaking,” the sentinel explained as he sat on the edge of the vibrating bed and brushed the damp curls back from his friend’s flushed face. “It’s called rigors. Basically a monster case of the chills. Come on, now, close your eyes. Try and get some rest and you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Blair tried to obey, but something was nagging at him. There was something important he needed to tell Jim. He grew frustrated with his inability to remember and weakly shoved away the hand that was rubbing up and down his arm, trying to lull him to sleep.

“Jim, something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, buddy, you’re sick,” Ellison reminded him. “That’s why you need to relax and let yourself rest.”

“No.” Blair sighed, struggling to latch on to the snatch of memory that flashed through his mind. “Jim, you have to help her.”

“Help who?”

“I don’t know... There was a man in a white coat.”

“You’re in the hospital, Chief. There are men in white coats everywhere.”

“He hurt her,” Blair whispered. “Jim, you have to help her.”

“Ok, I will,” the sentinel reassured his guide as he resumed rubbing his arm once more. “Don’t worry, I’ll help her.” He was fully convinced his friend was suffering from delirium, but if it would calm him he’d play along. “She’ll be ok. And so will you, buddy. That’s it, close your eyes. I’m right here with you. Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.”

Blair finally dropped off into a fitful sleep. And Jim was left to sit and wait and worry. For a brief period it has seemed like the younger man was doing better. But then the violent rigors had started and his fever was starting to climb again. And the sentinel couldn’t deny that it scared him. Hoping that the doctors would soon be able to figure out the cause, he took his guide’s limp hand between his own and gave it a little squeeze. There were no anxious hospital vigils when he lived alone, but Jim had no desire to go back to the aching emptiness of those days. Because even though having Blair as a roommate could be a large pain in the ass, it was worth all the noise and the mess and the chaos to have a friend to care about again. And as he sat with his guide, the sentinel was a bit startled to realize how much he did care about Blair. The neo hippie witch doctor punk who had snuck in under his guard and somehow captured his heart.

Blair opened his eyes and for a moment he was confused by his unfamiliar surroundings before it came back to him that he was in the hospital. He yawned and sat up slightly, looking around and grinning as his gaze landed on his sentinel. Sound asleep in the chair beside his bed, head thrown back and mouth hanging open.

“Now there’s an attractive sight to wake up to,” he murmured quietly.

Jim jumped slightly as if startled and Blair realized he’d probably had his hearing dialed up in order to monitor him even as he’d slept.

“Hey,” Ellison greeted, wincing as he massaged a hand over the crick in his neck. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a steamroller,” Sandburg answered wryly. “But that’s still a step up from where I was, so I’ll say better. Is that water?”

In response, Jim rose and stretched briefly before reaching for the tumbler of ice water that was on the table next to his friend’s bed. He poured a little into a plastic glass and set it on the bedside tray, swiveling it inward so that it was within easy reach.

“I can get you some juice if you want. Or something to eat if you’re hungry.”

“No.” Blair shook his head, rubbing his stomach absently. “I feel kinda sick.”

“That’s probably from the medicine they’re giving you,” Jim explained. “They said it was pretty hard core stuff and might have some side effects.”

“Medicine for what?” Sandburg asked when he’d finished gulping the cold water thirstily.

“You don’t remember the doctor talking to you?”

“No.”

“Well, it appears you brought a souvenir home from Peru, Chief,” the sentinel told him. “A case of malaria to be exact.”

“Malaria?!”

“The good news is that there are different types and you have one of the milder ones,” Jim quickly reassured him. “And it’s not a drug resistant strain, either. You’re already responding to the medicine and the doctor doesn’t think there will be any complications. You’re going to be fine, Chief, don’t worry.”

“So when can I get out of here?” Blair asked, running a hand over his tangled curls.

“Depends how well you can sweet talk the doctor, I guess,” Ellison shrugged. “He should be stopping in soon. But your fever broke and you’re making sense again. Well, as much as you ever did. So I don’t think you’ll have to stay too much longer. The drug they’re giving you now has to be administered in specific intervals over a certain number of hours and I know they want to keep you until that’s finished. But you’ve only got one more dose to go so they might even spring you tonight. Then you’ll have to take another medicine for about 2 weeks. They already started me on the pills as a precaution. Simon and Darryl will probably have to get checked out, too.”

“Sorry,” the younger man murmured in apology for the trouble he was causing his friends.

“It’s not your fault. Besides, it’s not a big deal to pop a pill once a day. This drug is milder and doesn’t usually cause side effects. I haven’t felt anything yet.”

“How long have I been here?” Sandburg queried, taking a good look at his friend and noticing that the sentinel appeared as bedraggled as he felt.

“Not that long. Less than 48 hours.”

“And you’ve been here the whole time.” It was a statement, not a question.

“You asked me to stay with you.”

“I did?” Blair frowned as he tried to remember. But he’d been so sick, the whole experience was just a blur of pain and haze. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t think I knew what I was saying. I never meant for you to...”

“It’s ok, Chief,” Jim interrupted him. “I would have stayed anyway.” The kid had been drifting in and out of consciousness, muttering in delirium and obviously upset by whatever demons the raging fever was conjuring in his head. But he’d seemed comforted by his sentinel’s near presence, even if he didn’t always recognize his face. So no way was Ellison about to leave him alone. Not until he was sure that his guide was ok, physically and mentally.

“Thanks,” Sandburg murmured. It was a good feeling to know that he hadn’t been alone, even if he hadn’t been aware of it at the time. “So what else did I say when I was rambling? Anything incriminating?”

“For you or me?” the sentinel teased.

“Oh, man, please tell me I didn’t!”

“Relax, Chief, you didn’t,” Jim assured him. A fact that definitely hadn’t escaped his attention. While his partner had been muttering about everything else under the sun in his delirium, he had not uttered one word about sentinels. And with that validation, the sentinel let go of any shred of doubt and gave his trust to his guide 100 percent. “There wasn’t a whole lot that made much sense. Not to me, anyhow. Some stuff about Lash and Borneo. And you kept having conversations with people that weren’t here.”

“Really?” Blair grinned slightly, trying to imagine who he’d been talking to. “That’s so weird, man. I don’t remember any of that. My last clear thought was talking to Eli after his lecture and then coming home and going to bed. Everything after that is pretty foggy.”

“Do you remember going out on the balcony?” Jim asked him. “Because I wouldn’t mind knowing what the hell you were doing out there. You’re lucky I found you on the floor, instead of three flights down on the street.”

“Oh my God,” Sandburg gasped, his eyes going wide as he struggled to sit up.

“What? What is it?”

“Jim, I saw it,” Blair told him, reaching out and grabbing his friend’s arm as he moved to help him sit up. “I went out there to get some air and I heard arguing. There was a girl down on the street and she was fighting with some guy. I couldn’t really see him but I saw her pretty good. But they were arguing and she tried to run away and then he shot her! You didn’t pick up on any of this?”

“I left the loft for a few minutes to run to the store and when I got back I found you out cold on the balcony. But no, I didn’t pick up on any shooting on the street.”

“He killed her,” Sandburg muttered, running a hand over his face. “Jim, I saw him kill her.” He looked up, surprised to see the skepticism in his friend’s blue eyes. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you think you saw him kill her,” Ellison began.

“What are you talking about?” Blair demanded. “I saw it!”

“You were burning up,” Jim reminded him gently. “And maybe you were seeing things that weren’t really there.”

“Oh, man, don’t do this,” Sandburg said, growing angry. “I know I had a fever but I wasn’t hallucinating. Not then. You have to believe me.”

“Chief, I was gone less than half an hour and I was only a block away,” the sentinel told him. “If there was a murder on our street I would have picked up on it. Heard the gunshot.”

“I didn’t hear a gunshot,” Blair recalled. “He must have used a silencer.”

“Then I would have smelled the gunpowder. Or the blood. Or I would have seen something suspicious. Twenty minutes isn’t enough time to dispose of a body and clean up the crime scene. And granted it was late, but surely someone in the neighborhood would have witnessed a shooting and reported it.”

“I know you’re right and I can’t explain any of that,” Sandburg protested. “But, Jim, I know what I saw and what I heard. I did NOT imagine this. Can’t you just check it out? Please? If I am right, there’s a murderer loose on our street. Please, just look into it. That’s all I’m asking.”

“All right,” Ellison sighed, giving in the way he always did. “I want you to start at the beginning and tell me everything you remember. Then I’ll go call Simon and have Rafe and Brown ride over there and check it out. But only on the condition that you try and eat something and then get some rest. Deal?”

“Deal,” Blair agreed, anxious to get started. For the sooner the sentinel got going on the case, the sooner the man with the white coat and the black umbrella would be made to answer for his terrible crime.

The sentinel hit the button for the elevator and glanced over at his guide, who had been uncharacteristically quiet on the way home from the hospital.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, Jim,” Blair replied, fixing a pointed gaze on his friend. “I’M fine.”

“Chief, I can’t investigate a crime when I can’t even find any evidence that one took place,” Ellison pointed out patiently. “The alleged crime scene was never secured and it’s been raining for two days now. I can’t find any trace of blood or powder and Rafe and Brown canvased this whole neighborhood and came up empty. So what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” Sandburg said as he forcefully punched the elevator button again in frustration. “But it might help if you would actually believe me.” He started to step into the elevator as the doors slid open but the sentinel halted him with a hand to his arm and looked him squarely in the eye.

“Blair, I do believe you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Blair entered the elevator and leaned up against the wall, sighing and running a hand through his hair as his friend hit the button for the third floor.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I did imagine the whole thing.”

“Do you think you imagined it?” Jim asked him steadily.

“No,” Blair answered firmly after a moment’s consideration. He trailed out of the elevator behind his partner and followed him into the loft. “I know I was a little out of it and what I saw was hazy, but it was real. I saw that girl get shot, Jim. I’m sure of it.”

“Ok,” the sentinel reassured him. “If you say that it happened, then I believe you.” He gave his friend’s shoulder a gentle squeeze of affection. “But try not to worry about it now, all right? You need to take it easy and get your strength back. We’ll figure this out, I promise.”

Sandburg nodded, but he was not comforted by the detective’s words. He knew there would be no rest for him until the killer was caught, or at least until he had solid evidence to prove to everyone that he wasn’t crazy.

“Here are those files you wanted, Jim.”

Ellison took two folders from his colleague and glanced up at him incredulously.

“That’s it?”

“Hairboy’s murder happened on a slow night.” Brown had been joking, but then he sobered slightly. “You don’t think he was dreaming? You really think he saw something go down out there?”

“I don’t know,” Jim sighed, leaning back in his chair. “There’s no evidence to support it but he’s so damn sincere, you know? It doesn’t make sense, but my gut’s telling me to believe him. I have to at least check into it.”

“Well if you need any more help, let me know.”

“Thanks,” the sentinel murmured as his fellow detective moved off, though he didn’t think it would be necessary as he’d pretty much hit a brick wall in the investigation. As a last ditch effort he’d had H pick up the stop and frisk reports for a ten block radius over a six hour period on the night in question, hoping that by some miracle he’d find something to go on. But neither file held anything suspicious or matched the description of either of the two people involved, as Sandburg remembered it. Which left Ellison out of leads and out of options and dreading having to go home that night and tell his partner that there was nothing else he could do.

It was time to put the case aside and move on to the next order of business, but Jim decided to grab a snack before he started on the stack of paperwork on his desk that had somehow tripled since he’d gone to Peru. He rose from his chair and headed for the break room, but he ran into his captain out in the hallway.

“How’d it go?” Ellison greeted him. “Just like I told you, relatively painless, right?”

“Except for the needle in my arm,” Banks drawled wryly. “And I just love spending my morning waiting around the doctor’s office and getting poked and prodded and stuffed full of pills.”

The CDC had recommended that everyone that had been in Peru with Blair get tested for the malaria parasites and take a course of antimalarial drugs as a precaution, since the infected mosquito that had given the disease to him could have easily bitten any one of them. Jim had gone through it all while Sandburg was still in the hospital and had considered it mostly as something to pass the time while he’d waited for his friend to wake up, but Simon had definitely not been happy about having to go out of his way to get tested and treated

“Well, look at the bright side,” the sentinel teased him. “At least you got to spend the morning with Darryl. You’re always saying that you two don’t get to do enough together.”

“Somehow I don’t think this is going to rank as a cherished memory for either of us,” Banks declared. “So you just send your buddy, Sandburg, to my office. I want to thank him personally for the extra headache today.”

“Remember, Simon, he did risk his life to come to Peru to find you and Darryl,” Ellison reminded him lightly.

“And that’s why I’m just going to yell at him, instead of giving him the bill for my medical expenses,” the captain assured him with a straight face.

“Well, you’re going to have to wait on that. Sandburg’s out sick for a few days. Doctor’s orders.”

“He’s not here?” Banks asked with a puzzled frown. “I saw his car parked across the street.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ellison, I know what Sandburg’s car looks like,” Simon informed him with mild irritation.

“I know,” Jim told him apologetically. “But if he’s here, where the hell is he?”

As if on cue, the elevator doors opened at the end of the hallway and Blair stepped out.

“Captain,” the sentinel began calmly. “I know as my superior you rightfully have first crack at any ass chewings. But I’d like to request that you let me take the lead on this one.”

“Be my guest,” Banks granted graciously.

“I can explain,” Blair called out hastily as his partner approached him with a murderous look on his face. Jim didn’t answer, apart from grabbing him by the arm and yanking him into the break room.

“Do you EVER do ANYTHING that you’re told?” he demanded as he shut the door behind them. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I had an idea,” the observer began, a bit taken aback by his friend’s strong reaction. “Check this out. I was downstairs going through the missing persons reports and...”

“And the doctor told you to take it easy for a few day,” Ellison reminded him sharply. “Are you trying to kill yourself? Or maybe you like it in the hospital. You know, I don’t....”

“Jim, will you just shut up for a minute and listen to me?” Blair interrupted loudly. His outburst stunned his partner into silence, but he knew it would only last a moment so he took advantage of it and plunged ahead. “I found her. This is the girl I saw.”

The detective gazed at him evenly for a minute, then took the photocopied page from his hand and glanced at the picture of the pretty young girl.

“Abby Monroe,” he read from the sheet. “Her parents reported her missing two days ago.”

“The day after I saw her shot in the street,” Sandburg confirmed.

“You’re sure about this?” Jim asked him.

“Yes,” Blair replied with absolute certainty. “I know it was dark and I was hazy and she was three flights down, but this is her. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“All right.” Ellison glanced over the report quickly again and then met his partner’s hopeful gaze. “I’m going to go run this by Simon and then I’ll go talk with her parents. Alone,” he emphasized.

“Ok.”

Cheerful compliance had been the absolute last thing the sentinel had expected out of his guide’s mouth and a warning bell went off in his head.

“You’re not going to argue and insist on coming with me?”

“Hey, as long as you get the guy, that’s all I care about. I’m just going to hang back and take it easy.”

Jim shook his head and opened the door, leaving the break room and wishing he could really believe that.

As Ellison returned to the station, he was hardly surprised to find his partner at his desk, eagerly waiting for him.

“What did you find out?”

“Not a lot, Chief,” the detective replied regretfully. “I met with Abby’s parents but they couldn’t give me much. Said she was a straight A student up until a few months ago. Then her grades took a nosedive and she quit volleyball and started running with a different crowd of friends. Her dad thought she might be getting mixed up with drugs, but they didn’t really know what she was into or who she was seeing.”

“You didn’t tell them, did you? About what I saw?”

“No,” Jim answered. “I’m not going to tell them anything until we have the proof to back it up. And I hate to say it, but I’m not sure we’re going to get any. We keep hitting dead ends here.”

“That’s ok, because I have another lead,” Blair announced.

“Really?” The sentinel sat on the edge of his desk and arched an eyebrow. “And what might that be?”

“I heard Abby say something about Bonnie still being alive the day before,” the anthropologist explained, consulting a notepad that he’d covered with writing, and a few doodles in the margins. “I just went with the assumption that Bonnie was a friend of hers so I checked with her school. No Bonnies in her class, but there was a Bonnie Larrabee in the junior class. Her parents found her dead the day I saw Abby out in the street. Early that morning, in their driveway.”

“Not bad, Chief,” the detective told him with a touch of admiration, impressed with his deductive reasoning. “Do we know cause of death?”

“I talked to the M.E. who did the autopsy,” Blair continued. “He didn’t have all the results yet but he said there were signs of sexual assault. Now Abby said something about Bonnie telling her what this guy did. I think our killer could be a rapist, too. And I also called Bonnie’s parents and got them to agree to talk to us. In fact, the Larrabees said to come around 4, so we should get moving. I already briefed Simon on everything.”

“YOU briefed Simon?”

“It was a measure of self-preservation. He was yelling at me for giving him malaria so I had to distract him with something. But he gave the green light to proceed, so let’s go.”

“All right, slow down Sandburg,” Ellison told him. “I’ll go talk to the Larrabees, but you are going to go get in your car and drive yourself back home.”

“Jim, come on,” Blair protested, definitely not cheerful or compliant this time. “You cannot leave me out of this.”

“Look,” the sentinel tried to reason with his guide. “It’s not like you’re coming off a head cold here, Chief. You were in the hospital two days ago.”

“I know but I’m fine now,” the younger man argued.

“But you won’t be if you don’t take it easy,” Jim stressed. “You’ve been here all afternoon and I really think you should go home and get some rest.”

“I can’t,” Blair said quietly, his gaze locking onto his partner’s as he tried to make him understand. “Whenever I close my eyes, all I see is her face, Jim. I can’t rest, not until whoever hurt her is behind bars. Abby was killed, right there in front of me. I’ll stay in the car if you want me to but I HAVE to be a part of this.”

“All right,” the sentinel relented, seeing how important it was to his guide and completely understanding his need to see it through, for he’d been there a few times himself. “Then let’s go do the interview and see if we can’t start making sense of this thing.”

“‘I’ll stay in the car’,” Ellison muttered to himself as he exited the Larrabees’ home and caught sight of his partner in the driveway talking to an attractive neighbor girl through the chain link fence. “That’s a laugh.”

He climbed behind the wheel of the Ford and started the engine, tapping his fingers on the dash impatiently until his incorrigible young friend came trotting back to the vehicle.

“Did they tell you anything?” Blair asked as he swung up into the seat and strapped himself in.

“Nothing useful,” Jim replied as he pulled away from the curb where they were parked. “They pretty much gave me a carbon copy of the story I got from Abby’s parents. Bonnie was a good kid up until a few months ago when her grades dropped and she started staying out all night and ditching school.”

“Drugs?”

“They said no, but told me she’d been depressed and angry lately.”

“Maybe in denial.” Blair sighed as he turned to look out the window at the picture perfect suburbia passing by. “What’s with parents today? None of them have the first clue what their kids are doing.”

“Tell me about it,” Jim agreed. “My old man was never the most attentive father, but my brother and I had a curfew and he monitored our report cards. And if we ever got into trouble, there was hell to pay.”

“Yeah. My mom’s as free spirited as they come,” Sandburg told him. “But she still always had to know where I was going and who I was with. I resented it at the time, but I’m glad she did it now.”

“Me, too. Parents are just too hands off today,” Ellison theorized. “All that psychobabble out there brainwashes them into thinking that they are going to screw their kids up by prying into their lives and trying to control them. Discipline has somehow become a bad thing.”

“I bet the Larrabees are wishing they had laid down the law now,” Blair said quietly.

“Yeah,” the detective concurred. “Well, they did give me the names of some of Bonnie’s friends and they said there’s a volleyball game tonight. Bonnie and Abby were both on the team so it might be worth a conversation with the other girls. They’d probably know better than the parents who these kids were hooked up with and what they were into, so I’d say it’s worth a shot. That is unless you’ve got a hot date with that neighbor girl you were chatting up.”

“I was not chatting her up,” Sandburg declared. “That was official business, for your information. Julie’s a junior in one of my classes, and as a neighbor of the deceased I questioned her as part of the ongoing investigation.”

“She give you anything ‘hard’ there, Starsky?”

“As a matter of fact she did, smart ass,” Blair continued, ignoring his partner’s innuendo. “She said she saw Bonnie getting dropped off one night by Chuck Delaney. Apparently he was this loser burnout from Julie’s class. Still has a thing for high school girls. Julie tried to warn her that this guy was bad news but Bonnie just told her to mind her own business.”

“Well, we’ve got some time before the game tonight. Why don’t we get something to eat and then head over to the school? We can ask the other girls about this Chuck. Hell, maybe we’ll get lucky and find him there if he’s some kind of jailbait Cassanova.”

“Sounds like the kind of place a perv like him would hunt,” Sandburg muttered. “And if he was involved with Bonnie, he’ll be in the market for a new girl about now.”

“You ok?” the sentinel asked, not used to seeing such a strong misanthropic side to his guide.

“I’ll be fine,” Blair told him wearily. “As long as you kill that turn signal that’s telling me we’re going to Wonderburger.”

Jim smirked, but he obligingly changed lanes and drove a block down the street to the small diner on the corner.

After grabbing a quick dinner, the detective and the observer went over to the high school that both girls had attended and found the volleyball team warming up in the gym. They were told that Bonnie had quit the team first and Abby followed a few weeks later. Both of them had cut their old friends out of their lives and had started running with a rough crowd. The captain of the team confirmed that Chuck Delaney was the ringleader of the gang, but none of the girls knew much about him or the people that he hung out with. Discouraged, Blair had a seat in the bleachers while Jim followed the coach with a few follow up questions.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Sandburg replied as a pretty girl sat down next to him. “How are you doing?”

“Great,” she beamed back at him. “I couldn’t help overhearing you asking about Chuck Delaney.”

“Do you know him?”

“Are you a cop?” the girl inquired, boldly reaching out to touch one of his springy curls. “You don’t look like a cop.”

“I’m not, officially,” he replied. “My name’s Blair Sandburg and technically I’m an observer, but I work with Detective Ellison over there.”

“I’m Natalie,” she offered, batting her eyes at him. “What exactly do you observe, Blair?”

“Well,” he began, trying to get his head around the fact that a high school girl was flirting with him. “Police procedure. Different aspects of the job. Nothing you’d be interested in. Mostly boring stuff.”

“What about me?” she murmured, sliding in a little closer to him. “What do you observe about me? Nothing boring here, I hope.”

“No,” Blair answered, trying to keep a straight face. Forget flirting. The girl was trying her best to seduce him. “No, definitely not boring. Or shy, either.”

“Sandburg, what’s going on?”

“Jim, this is Natalie. She was just about to tell me about Chuck Delaney.”

The girl hesitated, looking up at the detective’s stone face for a moment before she sat up straight and grew serious.

“I was involved with Chuck about two years ago,” she explained. “I don’t even know how it happened. I mean, he’s an idiot, but he’s real smooth. Like one of those cult leaders. He makes you feel special, like it’s the two of you against the world. Then the first girl that catches his eye, you’re yesterday’s news before you even know what hit you. Some girls get so desperate to keep his attention that they’ll do anything for him.”

“Like what?” Blair asked.

“Give him money. Score drugs for him. I know one girl let him pimp her out to his friends. I shoplifted a few times before I woke up and realized he was scum.” Natalie’s eyes went wide as she realized she had just incriminated herself to the police. “Are you going to arrest me for that?”

“I think we’d be willing to let it slide this time,” Jim said sternly, though his blue eyes were twinkling. “As long as you are willing to give us an idea of where we might be able to find this guy.”

Natalie dipped into her purse and came up with a pen and a pad. She jotted down a few names, along with her phone number before handing the slip of paper to Blair.

“Those are the places he usually hangs out. You should be able to find him at one of them. Just look for the crowd of girls with no self esteem.”

“Thank you, Natalie. We appreciate your help. Let’s go, Chief.”

Blair rose and started to follow, but the girl held him back.

“You know, I turn 18 in two weeks,” she hinted broadly. “Just in time for Prom.”

“Happy birthday,” Sandburg told her kindly, but firmly. “And I’m sure you’ll have a good time. Bye, Natalie.”

He caught up to his partner across the gym, and the look the sentinel gave him let his guide know he’d heard everything.

“I didn’t do anything,” Blair protested before his friend could say a word. “I swear.”

“I just hope this animal magnetism of yours works on our suspect,” Jim told him dryly. “It would be nice to have Mr. Delaney falling at your feet to confess as readily as these girls do.”

“It’s the hair, man,” the younger man said as they walked back to the truck. “Girls love the hair.”

“Yeah, ok, Chief. You just keep telling yourself that.”

“A little jealous there, Jim?”

“You got me,” the sentinel announced. “So maybe I’ll just grow a Brillo pad on my head so I can attract high school girls.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Blair grinned teasingly as he climbed into the truck.

Jim shook his head slightly, unconsciously running a hand over his closely cropped head before he opened the door and got behind the wheel just as his cell phone started to ring.

“Ellison.” The detective listened to the voice on the other end of the phone for a moment. “Great. Thanks.” He hung up, closing up the phone and tucking it back into his jacket pocket as he turned to face his partner. “That was the M.E. calling about the final report on Bonnie’s autopsy. Definite sexual assault. No fluids, but he found traces of spermicide so the guy must have used a condom.”

“What was the COD?”

“Asphyxiation. She passed out and vomited and choked to death. The doc found ketamine in her system and he said that’s what knocked her out.”

“Damn,” Sandburg whispered, shuddering slightly as he conjured a mental picture of the young girl’s horrible death. “Well, what now?”

“Now we check out those places Natalie gave us and see if we can’t find this Chuck,” Jim told him. “You up for that?”

Blair was quiet for a minute, staring out the windshield as he considered it.

“Maybe you should just drop me off at my car,” he finally said.

“You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m just... I’m feeling a little tired,” Sandburg admitted.

“I’ll just drop you off at the loft,” Jim decided. “It’s on the way, and you can ride into the station with me tomorrow and pick up your car.”

“Ok.”

He’d expected more of an argument, but realized if his friend admitted to being a little tired, he was most likely worn out. Not surprising since his illness had taken a lot out of him and he hadn’t given himself any time to recover. But he decided he’d lectured the kid enough for one day, so he refrained from nagging at him as they drove back to the loft. The sentinel pulled up in front of the building, but his guide hesitated before getting out.

“Jim, I don’t like the thought of you going after this guy alone. Will you call someone in for backup?”

“I can handle this punk,” the detective assured him confidently. But Blair didn’t seem convinced. “All right. I’ll call in and have a squad car put on standby. If I find Chuck, I’ll get the uniforms to back me up. Satisfied?”

“Yes.” Sandburg climbed out of the truck and shut the door behind him. “Be careful, ok?”

“I will. Just go upstairs and get some sleep and don’t worry about me.”

“Maybe two out of three,” Blair murmured as he watched his friend drive off into the night.

Ellison entered the loft and tossed his keys down on the table next to the door, immediately realizing that he didn’t need to be quiet for his roommate was not asleep. He wasn’t even in his room. His heartbeat was calling out from the balcony, and the sentinel went out to join him, having a seat in the deck chair beside him.

“Well, at least you’re conscious this time,” he teased his friend. “Although I’m actually surprised to find you here at all. I thought you’d have figured the whole thing out by now and would be out making a citizen’s arrest.”

“Funny,” Blair told him. “I just thought maybe if I revisited the scene of the crime, so to speak, something else would come to me. That it would jog my memory or something.”

“And maybe it’s a little cooler out here?” Jim suggested gently.

Sandburg sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. He should have known his sentinel would immediately be able to tell he was running a fever again.

“I’ve got a call into the hospital,” he said wearily. “The doctor was in a procedure but he’s supposed to call me back when he’s done. Guess you were right, man. Looks like I tried to do too much too soon.”

“I doubt it,” Ellison told him amiably. “There’s a reason it’s called ‘relapsing fever’, Chief. This probably would have happened even if you’d stayed in the hospital. It’s the way the parasites cycle. Every couple days they burst out of the red blood cells and infect new ones. That’s what makes you sick.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s always advocating that all life is connected and we’re all a part of the natural world?”

“Yeah, well, that was before I had parasites setting up shop in my liver. How do you know so much about malaria anyway?”

“From the army,” Jim explained. “Anyone getting shipped out of the country was given a crash course on the endemic hazzards. Toxic plants, venomous snakes, regional diseases, that kind of thing.”

“Well, this is more than I ever wanted to know about it,” Blair declared. “I’ve always been against those commercial bug sprays, but if there’s ever a next time I’m showering in the stuff. Did you have any luck finding Chuck Delaney?”

“Yeah, I found him,” the detective informed him. “Didn’t get much out of him. He was whacked out on something. Practically catatonic. But he did say he has an alibi for the night Bonnie died. I stuck him in holding for now and I’ll check on his story in the morning. And maybe then this stupor will have worn off.”

“If he’s on the same thing as Bonnie then he’s probably in a K-hole.”

“A what?”

“It’s a side effect of ketamine,” Blair explained. “Special K’s mostly a club drug. Big at raves. Sometimes used as a date rape drug because it causes a dissociative effect. Low doses bring on a dreamy feeling, but higher doses make you fall into a K-hole. It’s supposedly like a near death experience where you feel far away from your body and it’s difficult to move.”

“I’d say that fits our boy to a ‘T’. But just how do you know all of this?”

“I looked it up online.”

“I should have known you weren’t going to come home and go to bed,” Jim sighed. “You’re going to kill yourself over this case, Sandburg.”

“Anyway, I don’t think the man with Abby that night was Chuck Delaney,” Blair continued, deliberately ignoring his friend’s accusation. “The guy didn’t sound like some druggie lowlife. He sounded older. More refined, you know.” He was quiet for a minute, trying to visualize the scene that he had witnessed. “If Chuck’s alibi does pan out, then we’re back to square one, right?”

“You know by now that investigations take time,” Ellison reminded him. “Especially when you start off grasping at straws. But don’t lose hope now. This case has already progressed a lot further than I ever thought it would.”

“I know. I just don’t want this to be one of the ones that doesn’t make. I don’t expect you to understand....”

“I do understand,” the sentinel said, catching and holding his gaze. “You’re feeling guilty for something that wasn’t your fault.

“If I hadn’t have been sick...”

“You would have been in your room, asleep,” Jim filled in for him. “And you wouldn’t have seen or heard anything. Abby would have disappeared and maybe nobody would have ever found out what happened to her. And even if you weren’t sick and you were out here to see it go down, what could you have done? You didn’t see the gun until the guy fired, right?”

“No, but...”

“Then you couldn’t have known what was going to happen. You couldn’t have stopped it, Blair.”

“My head knows that,” the younger man sighed. “It just all hit me this morning when I found her picture. She was so pretty, you know? And she had her whole life ahead of her. I can’t help feeling like I should have been able to do something to help her.”

“I had the same problem when I first joined the force,” Jim told him. “When I was in the military, the focus was on prevention. My job was to stop trouble before it ever started. It was hard to go from that to MCU, where it was usually too late. The trouble was already over and all I could do was try to pick up the pieces. And I had a really hard time making that transition, Chief.”

“How did you?”

“It took some time. I finally had to realize that there’s a lot of bad out there in the world. Sometimes you can stop it. And when you can’t, you try and get justice for the victims and to make sure it doesn’t happen again. It’s the best you can do, and that has to be enough.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough this time,” Blair murmured.

“I know.” Jim reached out and placed his hand on his friend’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. “But you’ll be ok.”

The shrill ringing of the phone startled them both, and Blair grabbed up his cell which was resting on the arm of his chair. He had a quick conversation with the doctor, surprised when the sentinel demanded to know what he’d said as he hung up.

“You mean you weren’t listening in?”

“I respect your privacy, Chief,” Ellison told him with an insulted air.

“Well, he said that after treatment a relapse is rare, but sometimes it does happen. But the chloroquinine should still be at a therapeutic level in my blood and will probably take care of the remaining parasites and I should be fine after this. He just said to keep taking the Primaquine, but I don’t have to go back to the hospital unless I start another cycle in a couple days.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Nothing else?”

“No, that was it.”

“Nothing about coming back to the hospital if your symptoms become unmanageable at home?”

“You were listening!” Blair exclaimed in annoyance.

“Well, I wouldn’t have to listen in if you would tell me the truth,” Jim said in justification.

“I assumed that you wouldn’t need to be told to send me back to the hospital if I start raving in delirium,” Sandburg pointed out. “Besides, I don’t think it will come to that. The chills weren’t as bad this time, and the doctor said this episode will probably be milder than before. As I’m sure you heard for yourself.”

“I didn’t hear anything about your crabbiness being milder this time around,” the sentinel teased him.

“This conversation is so not helping my headache,” Blair muttered as he got to his feet, putting a hand on the railing to steady himself. “I’m going to go to bed and hopefully just sleep this off.” He started inside but paused in the doorway, turning back to his friend. “Jim? Thanks for not saying ‘told you so’.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t mean to ride you so hard today,” Ellison told him, looking away a touch uncomfortably. “It’s just that I spent the last few years flying solo, and I guess I forgot what it’s like to worry about someone. It just caught me off guard a little bit.”

“Are you cool with that?” Blair asked softly. “Worrying about someone? Worrying about me, in particular?”

Jim got to his feet and approached his friend with a grin.

“Yeah, I’m cool with it.” He gave him a gentle push inside and shut the balcony doors behind them. “Now go get some sleep. I’m here if you need anything. Ok?”

“Ok,” Blair replied, returning the grin. “Night, Jim.”

He went to his room and climbed into bed, feeling better in mind if not in body. The anthropologist knew that the only reason Ellison had originally agreed to their partnership was because he had no other choice. Not if he wanted to save himself a lot of pain and keep his sanity. But in the short time they’d known each other they had gone through a few intense situations that had created an equally intense bond and a solid friendship had formed between them. It had quickly become obvious to Blair that Jim cared about him. But it was nice to hear him finally verbally acknowledge it. Sort of. Enough that he knew he wasn’t just a pain in the ass, but that he was worth the trouble and that the sentinel was glad they hooked up for reasons outside of his needing help. Rather, because Jim liked having him in his life.

Ellison flipped around the channels for awhile, but nothing grabbed his interest for more than a few minutes. And by the time the nightly news came on, he was left wondering what was happening to tv programs these days and where had all the decent shows gone. It had apparently been a slow newsday in Cascade, for the broadcast was mostly comprised of highlights from the mayor’s town hall meeting and human interest filler. Not that he was complaining about the lack of crime or tragedy in his city, but it definitely made for a dull ending to an already dull evening. Jim picked up the remote and clicked the tv off, then got to his feet, stretching slightly before silently making his way down the hall and slipping into his friend’s room to check on him.

Blair’s fever was up, he was dismayed to realize. Not as bad as his first episode, but high enough for concern. The sentinel left the room and returned with a bottle of water a minute later, turning on the small desk lamp for his guide’s benefit rather than his own. He had a seat on the edge of his friend’s bed and attempted to gently shake him awake.

“Sandburg? Come on, Chief. You need to wake up and have something to drink.”

Blair muttered something incomprehensible and tried to turn away, but Ellison was persistent. Finally realizing that the annoying presence wasn’t going to go away, the younger man finally opened his eyes and roused himself enough to get the gist of what his friend wanted. He had a tiny sip of the cold liquid and tried to hand the bottle back, but Jim wouldn’t take it.

“That’s not enough, Chief. You need to try a little more.”

“I feel really sick, Jim...”

“I know, buddy,” the sentinel told him softly. “That’s from the fever. Which is why we need to get fluids into you, ok? You need water, so just have another sip.”

When his friend complied, Ellison let him off the hook for a minute. He left the room briefly and returned with a damp washcloth.

“Shove over.”

Blair obediently squirmed a few inches to the left, making more room on the edge of his bed. Jim sat back down and began stroking the cool cloth over his face. Sandburg opened his mouth as if to protest, then seemed to think better of it, deciding it wasn’t worth the energy to argue. He reluctantly took another drink when prompted, then settled back down against his pillow and closed his eyes. After a moment he opened them, gazing up at his friend in earnest.

“Jim? If I have to go back to the hospital again, it’s ok. You don’t have to stay there with me.”

“You won’t have to go back to the hospital if you can keep that water down,” Ellison reassured him. “You’re going to be fine, Blair, don’t worry. Just close your eyes and get some sleep, all right?”

Exhausted, Blair did as he was told. Jim looked down on him fondly, brushing an errant curl away from his face.

“And for the record, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered under his breath.

Blair quickly relaxed under his touch and fell into a peaceful sleep. But Jim remained where he was, sitting on the edge of his bed, sponging him down almost absently as he became lost in thought. There in the quiet darkness it was easy to brush denial aside and embrace the truth. The kid that he was nursing was not an acquaintance. Not some down on his luck associate that he was letting crash at his house out of pity. Not some science geek that he was tolerating because he needed help learning to control his senses. Not just a colleague to assist him in his investigations. No, Blair Sandburg was a friend. The best one he’d ever had, and Jim cared about him like he hadn’t cared about anyone in a long time.

That thought was so odd to him. After all, they hadn’t known each other very long. Not even a year. But in the months since they’d joined forces they had been through some pretty intense situations. Ones that had created a strong bond between them, as Blair had given him every reason to trust him and no reason to doubt him. He’d stood beside his sentinel, even against his better judgement, and had sacrificed his time, resources, and safety to back him up and help him learn to control his abilities. Jim respected that, and he was grateful for all his guide did for him even if he had a hard time expressing it. But what he didn’t realize was how much he was coming to rely on his younger friend. Not just for help, but for companionship.

Blair was... well, Blair was fun. Something he hadn’t had a lot of in recent years. He’d forgotten how good it was to have someone to joke with and laugh with and talk to. Playing poker with the guys or catching a Jags game, hitting the bars to flirt with pretty women or just hanging out at the loft in front of the tv. Jim quickly had come to realize he enjoyed having the company. More than he enjoyed having the loft quiet and orderly, so when Blair’s “one week” was up he had gladly agreed to let him stay, although he had pretended to be grudgingly convinced by his partner.

And it had worked out well, for they made a great team. He admittedly hadn’t thought much of Sandburg the first time they’d met, and he certainly had never expected the kid to be as resourceful and adept as he was. Blair had a knack of coming through in a pinch and was quick thinking on his feet. And he was a veritable encyclopedia of random knowledge, which had helped considerably on several of their cases. He was also charming and eager and good natured, and immediately had won over Major Crimes and just about everyone else in the large building. And Jim, who had insisted on working alone ever since Jack Pendergrast disappeared, was now enjoying his new partnership more than he had ever thought possible.

A change gradually came over him. One he didn’t notice at first, although the others in the squad did. The often irascible detective was relaxing. His mood lightened and some of the remote somberness disappeared as he grew increasingly more friendly and open and sometimes even playful. It was not hard to see that the young observer was a good influence on him, something that called for a good bit of teasing but the other detectives held their tongues, not wanting to tempt fate and ruin a good thing. As for Jim, he slowly started to realize that Blair had a calming effect on him. The kid was a whirlwind of chaos and energy, but somehow when he was around Jim lost some of his constant tenseness. Not that Blair was naive or innocent by any means, but he had a sort of purity about him. Something that the darkness and the horrors of the job couldn’t touch, and whenever Jim felt beaten down by the cruelty and violence and depravity he had to witness day after day, he just needed to look to Blair, and the purity of those blue eyes helped him find a little peace within his own soul.

Yep, the kid was good to have around. That much he could acknowledge. But it wasn’t until he came home from the gym that night, finding Blair gone and the loft trashed that he started to realized how much he needed to have the kid around. Knowing that he had let Lash slip right through his fingers and that Blair had become the serial killer’s next victim because of it was almost enough to do him in. An image of Sandburg, lifeless and floating in the bathtub with a yellow scarf around his neck, flashed through his mind and left him physically sick. Vowing that it wasn’t going to happen, he took advantage of his short window of time and used what his guide had taught him to track down Lash and stop him before he could kill again. It had been close, but Blair was safe and everything had turned out all right.

Except that the incident had left the sentinel shaken. After his divorce he had decided he was done with relationships. Too much trouble and too much pain baring your soul. He didn’t want that vulnerability anymore. And yet, somehow here he was again. Caring about someone. Loving him, even. Jim didn’t know how he’d gotten to this point with the guy who he didn’t even like at first glance. He’d spent so much time and energy over the past few years keeping himself distanced and other people at bay. How the hell had this kid managed to slip in under his radar?

But somehow he had. That became obvious in Peru when Jim returned to the village to find everyone gone. Kimberly, the children, Darryl... and Blair. Not even allowing himself to consider the possibility that his guide was dead, Ellison set out after them with fierce determination. But finding Blair alive and well didn’t quell the anxiety within him, as the prospect of Borneo was still looming on the horizon. But Sandburg put his fears to rest when they got home, telling him he had decided to stay in Cascade because it was about friendship. Not about his thesis or his career or the holy grail discovery that was going to blow the anthropological community away. Just as Blair had come to mean so much more to him, Jim realized the reverse was also true. He wasn’t just a research subject to the kid. It truly was about him and his life and his well-being outside of their project. In a word, it was about friendship.

And Jim couldn’t deny it any longer. He hated the thought of Blair leaving, being gone. But he still had trouble admitting it to himself, let alone saying it out loud. Until the night he spent at the hospital. The tense hours of not knowing what was wrong, watching his friend convulsing with chills and burning with fever and not being able to do anything to help him. There Ellison finally gave up the ghost. His guide meant the world to him. Whether he had wanted it or not no longer mattered. Blair Sandburg was firmly implanted in his heart and there would be no extracting him now.

The depth of his feeling scared him a little. He had lived most of his life closed off. It was how he was raised, after all. His mother bailed on them when he was very young and his father had taught him that affection equaled weakness. From that point on, most of the relationships he’d had in his life hadn’t been much more than surface deep. Oh, he’d had colleagues that he’d respected, women that he’d cherished, and friends that he’d enjoyed, but he’d never been able to really let any of them in. History had taught him that they would leave him in the end and the more he cared about them, the more it would hurt, so it was better to keep everyone at arm’s length and avoid the pain. And one by one the colleagues and women and friends did leave, for one reason or another, proving him right although it never crossed his mind that his remoteness often helped to drive them away. It was why Carolyn left him. She finally grew tired of the distance between them. In fact, the last person he had been close to was Danny Choi. And when he was murdered, Jim’s heart was broken and he vowed never to love anyone again.

But Blair, persistent little bugger that he was, somehow chipped through the sentinel’s wall of defense. A little here, a little there. So subtle that Jim didn’t even notice until he was already inside and the threat of losing him made the heart he’d decided to barricade ache with loss. Blair had gotten to him, conned him into loving him. He couldn’t deny it, but the depth of his feelings for his friend still confused him. Less than a year. How in just a few months had he come to care so deeply for this kid? Love him like a brother. Or more, as he definitely didn’t have these feelings for his real brother. Or his father, or Carolyn, or even Simon, who was as close as he’d let anyone get to him up to this point.

As Jim sat there in the quiet dark, tending to his sleeping friend, the answer finally came to him. Blair was life. He was energy and love and happiness and light and joy and fun and comfort and kindness. Everything that had been missing from the sentinel’s own life. His guide represented everything that was good and decent and made life worth living. Not only did he exude it, but he brought it to his partner and immersed him in it as well. Jim was just more alive with Blair to show him the way, and he was suddenly glad they had passed the point where he could extract himself. His old life was dreary and lonely, and the sentinel realized it was worth the chaos and trouble and potential for pain to have his spirited, loyal, generous friend by his side. Blair had been right. It was about friendship. And as soon as he got the chance, Jim was going to let him know it.

The sentinel gently woke his guide to coax a little more water into him. Blair obliged and immediately dropped off again, and since his fever was down a few degrees Jim decided that he could call it a night. He went to bed but slept poorly, as he had dialed his senses up to monitor the room below the stairs and as a result he was kept awake by every little noise in the loft. When the first rays of the morning sun came creeping through the window it was like a brilliant flash to his closed eyes, jolting him into the new day. Deciding to give up he rose and headed downstairs, grumbling under his breath.

Blair’s fever had broken, which lightened his mood considerably. Jim left him, going into the kitchen to switch on the coffeepot before heading for the bathroom to shower and shave. He was upstairs getting dressed when he heard his friend call his name, a note of anxious confusion in his voice. The sentinel trotted back downstairs and entered his guide’s room, finding him sitting up and frowning at his soaking wet clothing and sheets.

“What happened?” he demanded weakly.

“Your fever broke,” Jim explained. “The sweating is the third phase of the malaria cycle. It happened in the hospital, too, but you pretty much slept through it. How are you feeling now?”

“I’ll be fine,” Blair muttered, tugging at his collar in distaste. “Once you throw me a dry shirt.”

Ellison helped his friend change and then got him settled out on the couch. Blair insisted he wasn’t hungry, but he eagerly drank two glasses of juice while Jim ate his own breakfast and downed his morning coffee before running back upstairs to finish getting dressed. The sentinel descended the stairs to see his partner had the tv on, watching an old rerun of Happy Days through half closed lids.

“Are you going to be ok here if I go to work?” Jim asked as he gathered up his wallet and keys and cell phone.

“Mmm hmm,” Blair answered, on the verge of dozing off even as the Fonz spectacularly crashed his motorcycle into Arnold’s chicken stand.

“I’ll stop back here during lunch,” the detective announced, knowing his friend probably didn’t hear him as his breathing slowed and his eyes closed all the way. “If you need or want anything, call me.”

Before he left the loft Jim fished his partner’s cell out of his backpack and set it gently on the coffee table next to him, along with a bottle of water, just for good measure.

The sentinel arrived back at the loft shortly after noon and he was pleased to see his roommate looking a lot better. Blair was in the kitchen making himself a sandwich, his hair damp from a recent shower and no trace of malaise in his blue eyes as he offered a surprised greeting, having been out when Ellison told him he’d be home for lunch and thus not expecting him. Jim made a sandwich of his own as he informed his partner that Chuck Delaney’s alibi had checked out and he’d been released. Blair was not surprised by this news and merely asked what was next as his friend joined him at the table.

“I have an idea,” the detective said around a mouthful of bread. “Your man in the white coat. I was assuming that he was an association you made from being in the hospital. But ketamine is a tranquilizer, right?”

“What, you think it was a doctor that killed Abby?” Blair asked, unconvinced.

“Not a doctor, but a veterinarian,” Jim theorized. “Do you think the gun you saw could have been a tranquilizer gun?”

“Maybe,” the anthropologist said slowly. “I didn’t get a real good look at it. And it would explain why I didn’t hear the shot and you didn’t sense any powder or blood. But what would a vet be doing in his lab coat on the street at two in the morning?”

“Here.”

Ellison pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table. Blair unfolded it and glanced over the ad that had been photocopied from the phone book. It was for an emergency vet clinic located a few blocks from the loft, open from 7:00 pm to 7:00 am.

“I checked the records for this Doctor Mitchell and he’s clean,” Jim continued. “But I think it’s worth a conversation, if for no other reason than he might have seen or heard something if he was working that night. I’ll go by there tonight when it’s open and talk to him.”

“I’ll go with you,” Sandburg volunteered.

“You’re not going anywhere near that place, Chief,” the sentinel told his guide firmly.

“Jim, I’m fine,” Blair protested in irritation. “And maybe I’ll be able to ID the guy from his voice or something.”

“That’s exactly why you’re not going,” the detective explained. “You’re the only witness here, Sandburg, and it may come down to you making a voice ID. So you can’t contaminate that by having any prior contact with a potential suspect.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Blair allowed reluctantly as he got to his feet and carried his plate to the sink. He hated being left out of the investigation, but the last thing he wanted to do was compromise any evidence. His chance to help would come, and at least now he had new hope that they were getting close. Hope that he could find justice for Abby and Bonnie and whoever else the creep with the black umbrella may have hurt. “Jim, if it was a tranquilizer gun, that means Abby could still be alive somewhere. Right?”

“I wouldn’t stake too much on that, Chief,” Ellison told him gently, experience telling him that the girl was probably dead.

Blair nodded to show he understood, and he knew his friend was trying to prepare him for the worst case scenario. But they hadn’t found a body yet, and until they did he didn’t think there was any harm in having a sliver of hope. What could it hurt to hope that Abby could still turn up somewhere? To dream that a young girl’s life wasn’t over, and that somehow he could still save her?

Blair had been pacing restlessly around the loft for half an hour, and he pounced on his roommate as soon as he opened the door.

“Well? What did you find out?”

Jim grinned at his friend’s impatience and deliberately didn’t answer as he shut the door behind him and took off his coat and hung it up.

“I could go for a beer. You want something?”

“No,” Blair growled, knowing that his sentinel was deliberately screwing with him. “What did you find out?”

“It finally stopped raining,” Ellison related calmly as he headed for the kitchen.

Sandburg was annoyed, but he hesitated for a moment, trying to decide which of his various tactics would get him the answer he wanted. Threats, bribes, reasoning, big giant hissy fit... Then he decided to play the sympathy card. It was a little childish, but effective. And besides, Jim started it. He had to fight fire with fire. So he coughed a little, even though malaria had nothing to do with his lungs. But the sentinel immediately pulled his head out of the fridge to scan his blue eyes over him.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” Blair replied as he let his shoulders slump and slowly made his way over to the sofa, easing down into with a sigh of weariness. “I’m just tired. Guess I’m still a little weak.”

“Well, I talked to the good doctor,” Jim confessed, growing serious as he came to sit beside his friend who was trying hard not to smile at his roommate’s predictability. “He was smooth, but I think he was lying. His heart rate spiked when I showed him Abby’s picture.”

“Why didn’t you bring him in?” Blair asked, shying away from the hand that was reaching toward his forehead to check his temperature.

“I don’t have anything to charge him with,” the sentinel shrugged, aborting his attempt as he had gotten close enough to reassure himself that his guide wasn’t feverish. “I need more to go on than a gut feeling before I accuse him of anything.”

“So, now what?”

“We stake out the place,” Jim said, taking a gulp from his beer bottle. “And hope we can catch him doing something incriminating.”

“I don’t get it,” Blair murmured, rubbing a hand over his brow. “Vets have to make decent money, right? Surely selling a few hits of ketamine to kids can’t be that lucrative to make it worth the risk.”

“Maybe he’s not in it for the money,” Ellison speculated. “Maybe he’s more interested in the girls he’s selling it to.”

“Like Bonnie,” the younger man said softly, sobering as he recalled what the girl had gone through and suffered.

“We’ll get him,” Jim promised, clapping his friend on the shoulder as he got up to retrieve his ringing cell phone.

Blair could only hear his roommate’s side of the conversation, but at least the sentinel didn’t leave his guide hanging.

“That was the vet tech at Mitchell’s clinic,” he announced as he closed up the phone and stuffed it back into his jacket pocket. “She was evasive when I questioned her, but she stood up for the doctor. But I gave her my card and now she says she wants to talk with me. She’s coming by the station in the morning.”

“Do you think she knows something?” Blair asked hopefully.

“Well she already told me she doesn’t know anything,” Jim said wryly. “So I doubt she’s coming all the way to the precinct to reiterate her statement.”

“I have an early class in the morning,” the anthropologist relayed. “But I can come to the station after that. I’d like to know what this woman has to say. That’s not going to compromise anything, is it?”

“Are you sure you’ll feel up to going into Rainier in the morning?” Ellison asked him, giving him another critical once over.

“I think so,” Blair sighed, realizing that his tactic had gotten him the information he’d wanted, but it had also doomed him to an evening of infirmity under his sentinel’s watchful eye. “I’m sure this is nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.”

“Well, why don’t we put a movie in?” Jim suggested as he got up and moved to the chair.

“You can have the couch and just take it easy for a little bit.”

Resigning himself to his fate, Blair got up and selected a video, slipping it into the VCR before returning to stretch out on the sofa. But ten minutes into the movie, he was sound asleep. The sentinel grinned as he got up and carefully covered his guide with the afghan from the back of the couch. He had known all along that he was being played, but he had gone along with it, figuring that Blair would be forced to keep up his charade and if he would just sit still and relax for a few minutes he wouldn’t be able to stave off the rest he was denying that he needed. Well satisfied with himself, Jim settled back into his chair, lowering the volume on the tv with the remote. When it came to Sandburg, you had to fight fire with fire.

Ellison dialed his partner’s office for the third time, drumming his fingers impatiently on his desk as the phone continued to ring. Blair wasn’t picking up, and the reason for that immediately became obvious as the anthropologist swept into Major Crime.

“Where have you been?” Jim demanded as he dropped the receiver onto the cradle. “I’ve been calling you for an hour.”

“Sorry,” Blair said a bit breathlessly as he dropped his backpack and slid out of his jacket. “I got tied up at Rainier and then stuck in traffic.”

“Where’s your cell phone?”

“Ummm, I guess I must have left it at home.” Sandburg looked at his friend, taking in his slight agitation. “What’s going on? Did something jump off?”

“Yeah. Come with me.” The detective led his friend out of the office and into the break room across the hall, closing the door behind them. “We brought Ken Mitchell in.”

“On what charges?” Blair asked eagerly.

“He hasn’t officially been charged with anything yet,” Jim explained. “He’s just here for further questioning.”

“What did the vet tech give you?”

“Nothing concrete,” Ellison reported with a touch of disappointment. “Some odd behavior, like Mitchell going outside for a cigarette, but he doesn’t smoke. And disappearing for up to half an hour at a time. His pager going off constantly but he never returns the calls from the office. And she did say that she’s seen girls hanging around near the building. She couldn’t be sure, but she thinks that Abby might have been one of them.”

“Well, that all fits our case,” Blair said hopefully.

“It does, but it’s all circumstantial at this point. Without a witness or a body or anything concrete to point the finger on this guy we’ve got nothing to hold him on.”

“So now what?” Blair demanded, his own frustration building.

“This guy is an ass,” the detective told his partner. “He’s smug and overconfident and the only reason he hasn’t asked for a lawyer is because he thinks he’s smarter than me. But he agreed to a voice lineup, probably because he thinks it won’t make and he’ll be off the hook. If you can ID him, then that might be enough for the DA to get a search warrant. Are you up for it?”

“Absolutely!”

“Ok. Just hang out here for a little while and give me a few minutes to set it up. I’ll come get you when we’re ready.”

The sentinel left to arrange the lineup and was not gone long, but by the time he returned to the break room he found his guide’s initial enthusiasm had waned, replaced by a thick layer of anxiety.

“What’s wrong?”

“I guess I’m a little nervous,” Blair confessed as he paced restlessly around the table. “I mean, everything’s hanging on this one ID. It’s our only shot at nailing this guy, and if I don’t get it right... But even if I do there’s still no guarantee anything’s going to come of it. Voice ID’s don’t hold up in court half the time. And you don’t think his lawyer isn’t going to find out I was hospitalized with malaria an hour after seeing this creep on the street? How hard is it going to be for him to convince the jury I was hallucinating? And what if...”

“Whoa, Chief,” Jim ordered, catching his friend by the arms and halting his laps. “One thing at a time, ok? We just have to take this step by step, right? All you have to do now is go to the lineup and see if you recognize his voice. Don’t worry about anything else. Let’s just deal with this, and we’ll worry about the rest when we come to it. Ok?”

Blair nodded, taking a deep breath and willing himself to calm down. The sentinel released him, but kept a reassuring hand on his back as they left the break room and went down the hall to where the lineup was waiting. The anthropologist had a seat, wiping his damp palms on his pants as the DA went over the procedure with him and asked him if he understood. Sandburg assured him that he did and Jim hit the intercom button, instructing the men in the next room to all read the line they had been given. As the first man spoke, Blair felt a swell of panic rise up inside him. He had to do this. Had to get it right for Abby, to get her justice where he failed to save her. But his memory of that night was fuzzy, clouded by fever, and he wasn’t sure he could recognize the voice of the man with the black umbrella. And the thought that he might blow it and let Abby and Bonnie down was enough to make the bile rise up in his throat.

“I don’t think anyone’s going to hear that message, do you?”

The phrase was repeated five times, and when all the men had spoken Jim put a gentle hand on his partner’s shoulder.

“Do you want to hear them again?”

“No.” The word got stuck so Blair cleared his throat and tried again. “No. It’s number four.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Blair was more sure than he’d ever been. All his doubts and fears were erased the minute he heard the cold, refined voice. Instantly he had been transported back to the balcony where he had been helpless to prevent the assault on the young girl. And he could only hope his ID didn’t turn out to be too little, too late.

“Where do you recognize number four’s voice from, Mr. Sandburg?” the DA asked.

“Outside my apartment on Prospect early Friday morning,” he answered. “I witnessed number four threatening a girl who I later identified as Abby Monroe, currently missing.”

“Hold number four,” Jim said into the intercom before turning to the D.A. “You have your ID. Now how about that search warrant?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the lawyer promised as he picked up his briefcase and left to call the judge.

“You did good, Chief,” Jim grinned when they were alone. “We can hold him now, and I’ve got enough to arrest him if he starts making noise or wants to lawyer up.”

“We still have to prove that he committed a crime,” Blair sighed.

“Hey, pessimism is my department,” Ellison teased him. “You’re young. Have a little hope.”

“Maybe he keeps a diary at the office, detailing his exploits,” the anthropologist speculated, deciding that a little optimism couldn’t hurt.

“Like you do, Romeo?”

“How do you know about that?” Blair demanded.

But Jim just grinned wider and headed for the door.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll buy you a Mr. Tubesteak while we’re waiting for the D.A.”

“Take any records you can find on drug inventories,” Ellison told his colleagues, who were helping with the search of the clinic. “Especially relating to ketamine usage.”

Brown boxed up a few binders that looked promising as the forensics computer tech began searching the computer’s hard drive.

“What about you?” Blair asked quietly into his partner’s ear. “Are you getting anything?”

“Sorry, Chief,” the sentinel told him. He had already scanned the clinic and couldn’t see anything incriminating. And even if he could get past the overwhelming smell of chemical disinfectants, he had no basis of comparison to go by.

“So what if we don’t find anything here that links him to Bonnie or Abby?” Sandburg pressed.

“Then I go back at Mitchell and try and get a confession.”

“He’s never going to go for that, Jim,” Blair protested. “You said yourself that he’s overconfident and thinks he’s smarter than you. You aren’t going to trick him into giving it up and if you try and intimidate him he’ll just wrap his lawyer around himself.”

“Well I’m about out of options here, Chief,” Jim snapped at him, more irritated with himself and his lack of evidence than he was with his partner’s words.

“The back is clean, Jim,” Rafe reported as he entered the office.

“What’s back there?” Blair asked, out of curiosity.

“A surgery room and an incinerator,” the detective reported. “I’m going to get some gloves out of the car and then I’ll check the dumpster in the alley.” Rafe hesitated, glancing down at his expensive silk shirt. “Think the doctor would mind if I borrowed some of his scrubs?” he asked, only half joking.

“Why don’t we go back to Abby’s high school?” Sandburg suggested as Rafe continued on, resigned to his messy fate. “And maybe some of the other schools in the area. Now that we know who we’re looking for maybe we can find another girl that’s had dealings with this jerk and would be willing to testify. It’s worth a try, isn’t it? Jim? Jim, what is it?”

The sentinel didn’t answer, a look of concentration on his face as he began to move forward. Confused, Blair followed him out of the office, down the hall, past the treatment rooms and into the darkened surgery room.

“Creepy,” he muttered under his breath, shivering slightly as his active imagination recalled several mad scientist movies. He jumped a bit as the room suddenly flooded with bright light, courtesy of Jim locating the switch on the wall. But the sentinel just gave the room a disinterested glance and kept walking, disappearing through a door into a tiny offshoot. His guide followed him and entered the alcove, looking over the large incinerator that took up most of the room and was used for the disposal of pets that weren’t able to be saved. “Jim, what are you doing? Are you getting something?”

“Call forensics in here, Chief,” Ellison said absently as he tugged the heavy metal door open and peered inside at the blackness.

“Why?” Blair persisted, trying to see around his partner. “What’ve you got?”

“I’ve got a murder suspect with his own crematorium,” Jim explained impatiently. “What better way to dispose of a body? Only cremation doesn’t completely incinerate a body to ashes. You have bone fragments left over and forensics should be able to tell if any of them are human.”

Sandburg nodded and hurried out of the alcove to go and request the assistance of the forensics team. When his shout had been heard and acknowledged, he returned to the incinerator to find his partner fishing something out of it.

“What’ve you got, Jim?”

The sentinel held up the small object, wiping the soot away with his gloved fingers as he examined it.

“It’s the thing that’s going to nail Mitchell’s ass to the wall, Chief,” he replied confidently.

Ellison entered the interrogation room with a friendly smile, although his blue eyes shone with a predatory gleam.

“Doctor Mitchell,” he began pleasantly. “I’m sorry to have kept you here for so long and I just want you to know how much I appreciate your cooperation.”

“Well, I understand you have a missing girl to find,” the suspect countered smugly. “But I’m afraid I have nothing more to tell you and I have a clinic to run, so I prefer to be on my way.”

The vet started to rise, but he was halted by a firm hand to his shoulder, one that insisted he take his seat.

“Oh, you won’t be opening tonight,” Jim delighted in informing him. “Your clinic is now a crime scene.”

“What?” For the first time, a crack formed in Mitchell’s smooth exterior. “You searched my clinic? You had no right!”

“The warrant the D.A. gave me says otherwise.” The detective strolled around the table and pulled out the chair next to his suspect, having a seat beside him, his grin broadening. “You know, my partner had his concerns about you. Said you were too smart and I’d never be able to trick you or intimidate you into confessing. But he’s new at this and still has a lot to learn. You see, guys like you are the easiest nuts to crack. You’re too overconfident and arrogant to think that some Joe Cop is going to figure you out. Now, a true skell would have had the paranoia to clean out his incinerator and dump the evidence in the bay. You didn’t, and now I don’t need your confession because I have this.”

Jim stood up and reached into his pocket, pulling out a bagged item and tossing it down on the table as the vet paled.

“Being a doctor, I assume you’re familiar with surgical pins,” he continued. “All it took was about ten minutes on the phone to trace this one back to the one put in Abby’s collarbone after a bike accident a few years ago.” The friendly smile contorted into a scowl and the blue eyes became cold ice as Ellison got in Mitchell’s face. “You were using those girls, weren’t you? Trading ketamine for whatever they were willing to give you. But it wasn’t enough, was it? You got Bonnie wasted and raped her. And then when that backfired and Abby threatened to expose you, you got rid of her, too. Didn’t you, you sick bastard? You sedated that little girl and you burned her body in the incinerator to shut her up, didn’t you?”

“You can’t prove anything,” the vet stammered in fear, his confidence completely shattered.

“Maybe I can’t put the gun in your hand,” Ellison told him, “but I’ve got enough to put a needle in your arm. Now stand your sorry ass up. I’m placing you under arrest.”

The detective cuffed his suspect and read him his Miranda rights as the doctor began loudly demanding his lawyer.

“Yeah, I’ll give him a call and tell him to meet you down at the Cascade Pen,” Jim reassured him as he handed his prisoner off to Brown for the transport. “And I’ll be sure and tell him to get ready to earn his retainer.”

Well satisfied, the sentinel returned to the bullpen to find his partner slumped over his desk.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, tapping a finger gently against his friend’s head. “Wake up. I need that file you’re drooling on.”

“I’m not sleeping,” Blair protested, though he didn’t move. “I’m just resting my eyes.”

“Well let’s go home and you can rest your eyes all you want in your own bed.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Sandburg murmured with a yawn as he sat up and stretched.

“You’re getting over a major illness,” Jim reminded him. “It might not seem like it to you because they caught it quick and it cleared up fast and you were out of it for the worst of it. But malaria is serious, Chief, and you don’t just shake off what you went through. You’re going to need a little time to build yourself back up.”

Blair looked at his partner, who had rescued his file and was busily adding a few notes to the pages. He appeared nonchalant, but the guide thought he picked up on a trace of something in his voice. Maybe a residual fear. But instead of pushing it, he just nodded.

“I hear you.”

“I’m going to go give this to Simon,” Ellison announced as he signed the document with a flourish. “Then we can get out of here.” He dropped the file off in his captain’s office, getting a well deserved pat on the back for a job well done. Blair was waiting for him at his desk, holding out his coat, and they left the building together as the younger man decided to leave his car and ride home with his friend.

“Did Mitchell go for it?” he asked, stifling another yawn as they pulled out of the police garage.

“He lawyered up,” the detective told him. “But on the bright side, it’s late enough now that he won’t be able to get arraigned until morning. He’ll probably make bail, but at least he’ll spend tonight in holding.”

“Can we get him on Bonnie’s rape, too?”

“I couldn’t charge him with that, Chief,” Jim confessed regretfully. “There just isn’t any proof unless Abby’s cell phone with that voice mail message turns up somewhere. But I’ll lean on the D.A. and we’ll keep working that angle. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, but for something quick,” Blair said. “Why don’t we call for pizza and we can just pick it up on the way?”

“Works for me,” the sentinel agreed amiably.

Sandburg made the call and after a quick stop for the food they arrived back home at the loft. They made small talk while they ate, but Jim was distracted with something on his mind. And though he knew his friend was tired, he decided to go ahead and broach the subject that had been nagging at him for days.

“Chief, listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. Is it too late for you to go with Eli to Borneo?”

“Where did that come from?” Blair asked, surprised.

“Well, you were talking about it a lot in the hospital when you were delirious,” Jim revealed, looking away uncomfortably. “And it’s not fair for me to ignore what might be in your best interests. I didn’t want you to go for selfish reasons and I’m sorry. But you shouldn’t waste an opportunity like this, right? This could make your whole career.”

“So could you,” Blair said softly, but fondly.

“I’m serious,” the sentinel insisted, meeting his guide’s gaze. “You said you decided to stay because it was about friendship. Well, I want you to know that however long it takes, that friendship will still be here when you get back. So if this is something you really want to do, then you should do it. Just think about it, ok?”

“Ok,” Sandburg murmured, taken aback by his friend’s change of heart. Apparently considering the matter closed, Jim rose from the table and began cleaning up. Blair likewise rose and began to help, even though there wasn’t much to do. Once they were finished, Ellison snagged a beer from the fridge and had a seat in the living room, clicking on the tv. Blair declared his intent to go to bed, but on his way to his room his steps faltered and he hesitated, coming to a stop next to the sofa. “Jim, you know, I don’t remember much from when I was in the hospital. But I really do appreciate you being there with me. And I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t scare me,” the sentinel protested, his gaze firmly fixed on the tv. “It’s just that you were so sick and for awhile there nobody knew what was wrong and...” He trailed off, then turned his head to look at his roommate standing behind him, giving him a broad grin. “You terrified me, all right? So don’t do it again.”

“I’ll try,” Blair grinned back. “Night, Jim.”

“Good night, Chief.”

It had been a long day and an intense work out session, and a ravenous Jim Ellison came home to the welcome smells of baked chicken breast, steamed vegetables and seasoned rice.

“I was going to bust your chops for not coming by the station today,” he greeted his friend, “but all will be forgiven if you tell me that’s going to be ready in the next five minutes.”

“Maybe ten,” Blair told him, blocking him as he tried to enter the kitchen to pick at the food and staving off his culinary assault by handing him plates. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you that I wouldn’t be in today. I had to go back to the hospital this afternoon for my follow up blood test.”

“And?” Jim prodded as he dutifully began to set the table.

“All clear. I am officially parasite free now.”

“That’s good news.” The detective sighed heavily as he arranged the silverware meticulously next to the plates. “I wish I had some to give you.”

“What’s up?”

“Mitchell cut a deal,” Jim told him. “He plead guilty to a lesser charge and was sentenced to thirty years.”

“Which means he’ll be out on parole in fifteen,” Blair concluded grimly as he pulled the pan of chicken out of the oven, slamming it down on top of the burners and throwing his oven mitt on the counter in a gesture of obvious disgust.

“I know it’s not what he deserves,” the sentinel consoled him. “But it is still a long time and anything could happen to him in the pen. It’s hard time and I don’t think Mitchell is going to be able to hold his own in there. He’s in for a miserable existence and even if he does get out in fifteen years, his life is over. He’s lost his license to practice veterinary medicine and everything he had will be gone. Maybe it’s not the justice he should have gotten, but he didn’t get away with it.”

“He got away with what he did to Bonnie,” Blair murmured, running a hand through his hair. “I feel like I failed her, Jim. Her and Abby both.”

“How can you possibly say that?” Ellison inquired gently. “Blair, you made this whole case. If it wasn’t for you, Mitchell would still be out there, hurting more girls. And thanks to you, Abby’s parents at least know what happened to their daughter. They aren’t going to be sitting by the phone, hoping to hear something. Praying every day that she’ll come home, safe and sound. Trust me, when you can’t save a victim, giving their loved ones that kind of closure is still doing a lot. You did the best that you could have done, Chief, and you got a murderer off the street. And that is definitely not failing. In the detective world, that’s one step closer to grade promotion. Now come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Jim,” Sandburg whispered as he reached a trembling hand out to turn off the oven. “Do you think Abby was still alive when Mitchell put her in the incinerator?”

“I don’t know, Chief,” the detective replied. “But if she was, she was sedated and she wouldn’t have felt anything.”

“I hope not.” Blair started carrying dishes to the table, finding that he didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. But he knew his sentinel was watching him so he tried to eat a little while distracting him with a new topic. “I actually have more news to share.”

“Good or bad?”

“Depends. I decided once and for all I’m not going to Borneo.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Jim, I appreciate you being understanding and it means a lot to me that you were willing to step back and let me do this, guilt free. But there will be other Borneos in my lifetime. There may not be other sentinels. And this just feels right, you know. Like it’s what I’m meant to do. There’s still so much more you need to discover about your senses and how to control them and use them to your advantage. And I want to help you with that. We’re just getting started, and I don’t want to bail on that now because I think we’re really on to something great here.”

“You’re not just talking about the project anymore, are you?”

“No,” Blair replied, taking a sip from his glass. “I guess I’m not. And I don’t ever want to be the kind of person who would put career over friendship.”

“As long as it’s what you want.” Jim looked down at his plate, trying to hide a smile as he cut into his chicken. “But I’m glad you’re not leaving.”

“Why?” Blair teased him. “Because I make you dinner?”

“No, I like having you around for more than that,” the sentinel answered with a straight face. “You also take care of a lot of my paperwork.”

Sandburg crumpled up his napkin and threw it at his friend, but his mood lightened considerably and his appetite returned. After dinner Jim insisted on cleaning up the kitchen and taking care of the dishes, but when that was done he joined his roommate in the living room, flopping down on the sofa next to him and scooping the remote up off the cushions.

“Hey!” Blair protested indignantly as his channel was changed. “I was watching that.”

“And now you’re watching this.” The sentinel tried to focus on the tv and ignore the blue eyes that were boring into his skull, but after a few minutes he couldn’t take it anymore and tossed the remote to his guide. “Fine, put it on whatever you want. Just stop glaring at me.”

“Nah, I wasn’t really watching anything,” Sandburg announced, tossing the remote back down on the cushions between them. “This is ok.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to Borneo for a year or so?” Jim muttered.

“No way, man,” Blair declared adamantly. “Too dangerous. Borneo is a parasitic paradise. Malaria is just the tip of the iceberg. You’ve got hookworms and roundworms and giardia and amoebic dysentery. Oh, and filarial worms, too. Have you ever seen a guy with elephantiasis of the genitals, Jim?”

“Sandburg?”

“What?”

“Just shut up and watch the movie.”

Finis

The Sandburg Zone
Cascade Library